Mismatched
by Sailor Comet
Summary: The Uchiha aren't too happy that somebody else is using their eyes, even if he only has one. A short ficlet set right after Obito's death. No romance.


The title refers to more than Kakashi's eyes. Naruto manga has made me more interested in the way so many people are blatantly two-faced.

I don't actually know how old Itachi is compared to Kakashi, so I guessed.

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**Mismatched**

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Kakashi wanted to go back to sleep.

He had woken to the sound of somebody moving around his bed—a doctor, most likely, considering that he _was_ at the hospital—and continued to feign sleep, waiting for them to leave so he could roll over into a more comfortable position. The last time he'd let on that he was awake, they'd let in visitors—among them, Obito's mother. She'd been screaming that he and Rin had let her boy die, frantic with grief and angry that she had to see her son's greatest achievement sitting in Kakashi's skull. He didn't want a repeat, and so he kept his eyes closed and breathing relaxed.

As soon as he heard the person exit the room, he opened his eyes and propped himself up. Hospital pillows were too flat; he'd have to fluff it up a bit before going back to sleep.

A noise caught his attention, and he froze, pillow only half-fluffed. His eyes moved up, taking note of the person who'd been stationary and silent, seated next to his bed. The man—no, a boy, younger than Kakashi—was watching him with dark eyes and no expression; his elbows rested on his knees and his hands were steepled in front of his mouth. The wrinkles at his eyes had made Kakashi read him as an older man at first, but the round face and the body's proportions implied that he'd barely hit puberty.

When the boy spoke, his soft voice confirmed his younger age. "So Obito realized he didn't have the capacity to use the Sharingan to its full potential, and he gave it to the remarkable Kakashi instead." The boy's dark eyes curved as though he were amused by what he'd said. His mouth was still covered, for which Kakashi was glad.

Kakashi's hands fisted in the pillow, and he could feel Obito's eye want to tear up. "You are?" he demanded, noting as he spoke that his mask had been removed. Unfortunate; he might have snarled those words. He forced his mouth into a neutral line.

"Itachi Uchiha," the boy answered. Kakashi nodded; he knew that name. Itachi closed his eyes, and when they opened again they were blank. He stood up and smiled as though he was sad.

"Keep that eye covered when you aren't using it."

Kakashi's glare intensified, and now he knew he was frowning. In response, the Uchiha held his hands up, palms facing Kakashi, a gesture to imply he meant no harm. His smile was still a blatant lie, but at least it hadn't gone back to cruel amusement.

"For us, the Sharingan becomes dormant when we don't need it. Unless you cover it, it will sap your energy constantly, and you probably won't leave this room again."

Though he continued to glare at the boy until he left, Kakashi knew good advice when he heard it.

---

Kakashi and Rin went out to lunch the day after he was discharged from the hospital. He was now wearing his forehead protector over Obito's eye, and adjusting to the new depth perception it caused. The two ate without talking, and so they were able to hear the restaurant's other patrons quite clearly.

"I hear his mother's devastated." The words were almost whispered, as opposed to the rest of the loud noise filling the restaurant, and the difference in volume drew Kakashi's attention.

"Well, he was an Uchiha, after all; I'll bet he would have started developing much faster after awakening Sharingan…" His eye drifted to Rin, who had stopped eating; she was staring down at her plate but completely attentive. She could hear them too.

"They always did hate each other, you know…" There was a pause, and a crash from the kitchen drowned out the next person's words.

"Well, I wouldn't be so bold as to suggest _that_, but it seems awfully convenient for an accident, don't you think?"

Kakashi stood up, his chair scraping the floor loudly, and the quiet conversation ceased, though the rest of the patrons were oblivious. Rin rose from her chair as well, hastily placing some cash on the table. She and Kakashi left the restaurant quickly. He wanted to glare as they walked past the people who'd been talking, but they already knew they'd been overheard, and he could feel the fabric of his forehead protector growing damp over Obito's eye.

"I'll pay you back," Kakashi mumbled once they were outside. Rin shook her head, but when she arrived home she wasn't surprised to find the money in her bag.

---

Kakashi remembered the one time he'd gone to pick Obito up for training. He'd decided that he would go and fetch his teammate before said teammate had the chance to be late as he usually was. He didn't expect any of Obito's excuses to be true; rather, he was thinking he would find the Uchiha still in bed.

Kakashi stood out in the Uchiha district, his bright silver hair easy to spot among everybody else's. Of course, he was also traveling on top of the roofs, which always added a certain conspicuous quality even in Konoha. Still, nobody stopped him, and he found his teammate without trouble. Obito was standing in the back yard of what Kakashi assumed was his home, speaking with an older woman who was most likely his mother. Or rather, Obito was listening as she scolded him. Kakashi slowed down as he approached, somewhat satisfied that he wasn't the only one who got annoyed with the idiot.

He landed on their roof just as the woman slapped his teammate. He stopped himself from jumping to their yard, eyes wide in surprise, and almost made a noise as he hastily regained his balance on the roof. A second later he was crouched down, watching the two Uchiha speak. At this range he could clearly hear what Obito's mother was saying, though he wasn't eavesdropping. He was simply waiting for a moment when he wouldn't be rudely interrupting so he could collect his teammate for training.

"God, why can't you do better? You're a disgrace to the clan! Fifteen years old and you still haven't awakened Sharingan?"

Obito's eyes were on the ground. His goggles were up, resting on his forehead protector, and apparently something had agitated his eyes quite badly, because they were watering even worse than when Kakashi agitated the other ninja.

"How can you be the worse on your team? How can the son of that _trash_ be so much better than _you_, an Uchiha?"

Kakashi's eyes narrowed, but he held his silence and stayed still on the roof. The woman was so occupied with her tirade that she hadn't noticed him—she must have been very upset if he, a chuunin, could remain unnoticed while making little to no effort to do so. If he remembered right, both Obito's parents were excellent ninja. His father was on the police force, and his mother was a top-ranking Jounin. They didn't have individual reputations that preceded them in other countries, nor attention-grabbing names like "Konoha's Yellow Flash." They were, however, perfect examples of why the Uchiha clan was considered elite; why the Sharingan, if not the individual ninja who used it, was known and feared.

The woman sighed and turned, walking back into the house. "Sometimes I wonder if you're my child," she muttered quietly, but Kakashi heard it and he saw Obito stiffen. She closed the door behind her.

Obito finally moved, rubbing his eyes hard. Kakashi watched, then realized that he was going to be late for training if he stayed any longer. He left without a second thought, not caring if Obito saw his departure or not.

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(la fin)

(je ne peux pas le faire si je suis seul.)


End file.
